Cigarettes and Valentines
by friend9810
Summary: Stiles has had enough of Beacon Hills and decides to go off on his own. In the new city he meets the charasimatic asshole that is Peter. Things go from there... Or the American Idiot AU no one wanted in which Peter plays St. Jimmy. (You don't need to know anything about the play to understnad though)


_Part I_

_To live and not to breathe / Is to die in tragedy / To run, to run away / To find what you believe_

The dawning of a new day. Another twenty-four hours of hanging out with Scott in favor of the supernatural. Except Stiles didn't favor it anymore. The novelty of 'wow this shit exists'' wore off a long time ago, somewhere in between the third time he and his friends almost died and the evil ancient fox spirit possessing his body. He really tried to not be completely bitter about the whole Nogitsune business, but it was hard not to be. He did things he would regret the rest of his life even if the others tried to convince him it wasn't his fault. They didn't understand. Not only was he upset over the fact that people died because of him, but also because he_ liked_ the rush of power he had while being possessed. The Nogitsune was now gone and its price was that power.

The Nogitsune business happened roughly two years ago and now at twenty-two he was still sticking around Beacon Hills for whatever reason. It wasn't until today when earlier he and his father got into another argument that he decided enough was enough. There was nothing for him in this town. He cared about his father but since his mother died they have been distant. The business with the supernatural only put a strain on that relationship and the fact that Stiles wasn't really doing anything with his life didn't help matters either. His father concentrated on distractions like work or alcohol. Stiles was sure that if he did go he would stay in contact, same with Scott.

The pack was another reason that Stiles felt it time to go out on his own. It really wasn't a pack anymore. There was still Liam, Isaac, and Scott, but the others left Beacon Hills once graduation hit. Lydia went off to MIT and began her domination of the east coast. Kira went to UCLA and so she and Scott would often skype or he would make a trip down there. Lastly there was Parrish who was a new edition since finding his place in the supernatural but he often had to work and so he missed out on a lot of pack things.

He had thought long and hard about it. He wanted to strike out on his own and maybe with a little luck get a break from werewolves and other creatures. All he really wanted to do was see a bit more of what life had to offer other than Beacon Hills.

Which lead him to real reason he was at Scott's house. Even though playing video games was a lot of fun, he needed to talk to his friend. Stiles looked at the screen and slashed the final enemy in the game. The game ended and Scott clicked the button to start over but Stiles hit pause.

"Scotty, I think I'm going to leave."

"Sure, man, whenever you want to go." Scott said not really paying attention.

Stiles shook his head, "No. I mean, like leave Beacon Hills. For good."

At this Scott looked concerned, probably trying to process his friend's words. "What?"

"I think I want to leave Beacon Hills.

"Are you sure?"

Stiles took a breath. "Yeah I think I am. I've thought about it for a while now." He shifted in his seat a little bit awkwardly. He wasn't sure if his idea was going to go over well with his friend. Nervousness suddenly overtook him.

Scott must have noticed because he suddenly did his damndest to look reassuring which wasn't hard since he was like a cute puppy whom no one would dare disappoint. "If this is because of anything the pack has—"

"It's partly because of that. It's also because of my home life and because I don't think I want to live all my life here."

Scott looked like he was contemplating his friend's words. It wasn't long before he nodded. "Do what you need to do. Just keep in touch. You're my brother. It's going to be hard without you here, but I'm sure I'll manage." He said adding a small smile that Stiles feel a lot better about things between them.

Stiles grinned, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Of course, buddy. Besides I'm thinking about going towards the south of the state to start off with. Knowing our codependency you'll probably run into me during one of your visits to Kira."

Scott laughed at this and then stood up. He grabbed his laptop much to Stiles' confusion. "Alright. If you're leaving then I guess it's time for me to watch Star Wars."

"You're finally ready to lose your Star Wars virginity? And with me? I'm honored."

Scott shook his head as pulled up a link that looked like it would work and then hooked up his lap top to the TV. "Come on. Let's get it over with."

"You can't just 'get it over with'. It's a journey, young Jedi."

A few days later Stiles stood outside putting the last of his stuff into the back of the jeep. His father watched from the front steps with a look that resembled pride. Days before when Stiles first told his dad about his plans he was afraid that the Sherriff would object or worse, wouldn't care. His fears were casted aside however when his dad grinned and pulled him into a hug. Since then Stiles had been busy packing his stuff up and making arrangements for an apartment in Oakland.

With a grunt Stiles shut the back to his jeep. Happy to be packed full of his things, less than thrilled with the long car ride that awaited him. When he was done he walked over to his dad.

"All done?" His dad asked.

"Yeah I think so."

"Be careful out there. If you need anything let me know." He then handed Stiles some money and before Stiles could protest he continued, "It's just gas money. Don't try to argue about it because you'll lose and will be taking the money no matter what."

"Dad, you don't need to—"

"Nah. I need to. Now you should get going so you won't be driving all night."

Stiles nodded and hugged his father. They weren't the closest and it wasn't the perfect father-son relationship that Stiles could hope for, but he loved his dad no matter what. "I'll visit."

"I expect it."

_Part II_

_My name is St. Jimmy, I'm a son of a gun / I'm the one that's from the way outside_

Striking out on his own was not as easy as he expected. The first couple of days were great. He met his neighbors, got a job at a local restaurant, went out and explored the city, it was nice. But, now two months into his escapade Stiles found himself lonely. He tried to make friends, he really did, but nothing seemed to be working. He was starting to wonder if there was just something about himself that people didn't like or if he should have even tried to leave Beacon Hills. He really hated this loneliness. It reminded him heavily of sophomore year when Scott had Allison and Stiles felt like a third wheel.

This loneliness lead him to a bar that was suggested to him by one of his co-workers, Christina. She was one of the only people that Stiles met that he really liked. He guessed that he could count her as a friend, but they never really hung out or anything so he wasn't too sure.

The bar was a seedy little thing. Clean enough to feel okay drinking there, but dirty enough to fit the atmosphere. It seemed to be a regular hang out spot for most of the people there. It didn't seem to be too crowded and people seemed to sit in clusters. Loud music was playing, he thought it was an early Green Day song. Some guys were playing pool while a group was laughing loud in the corner. He spotted a few stools free at the bar and chose to sit over there.

After a few minutes of sitting at the bar and taking in the atmosphere he ordered a beer. For the first time in weeks he felt good. Like he did something right although he hadn't done anything new at all.

Some time passed and Stiles was making some conversation with a few guys. They were in a band and Stiles had found that they had similar music tastes to him. After talking and drinking for what seemed to be an hour the guys said they had to go, but invited him to their next gig which Stiles thought was pretty cool.

As soon as the guys left, another guy came through the entrance of the bar. The chatter of all the people seemed to die down ever so slightly, Stiles thought it was just because of all the alcohol he had consumed. However, once he looked at the man who entered he could see why it was possible that people stopped what they were doing.

He was probably one of the most beautiful human beings he had ever seen. He wore tight black skinny jeans, beat up red and black converse, and a black v-neck that was cut in such a way that it should have been illegal. He looked a few years older than Stiles, but not by much. Tattoos littered his arms. Messy black hair and bright, icy, blue eyes topped off this being of haphazard perfection that just waltzed into the bar liked he owned the place.

Stiles wasn't the only one who was staring as the gorgeous guy walked inside, but unlike him the others seemed to know this guy as they all greeted him. He was making conversation with a group who were playing pool.

Stiles' staring must have been apparent as a quiet voice interrupted him from his thoughts, "That's St. Peter. He's kind of a big deal around these parts."

He turned to look to see who the owner of the voice was, it was a girl. She was young to be in this bar and definitely too young to be drinking the beer she was holding, she was maybe fifteen or sixteen, but no one seemed to mind.

He laughed. "St. Peter? You got to be kidding me. Please tell me that's not what he calls himself."

"I don't think he calls himself that, but everyone calls him St. Peter. Never just Peter. He's helped a lot of us out. I think he likes the stroke to his ego too."

'I'm sure he does." Stiles said with a smile, shaking his head a bit. The idea that someone would have the audacity to go around be referred to as a saint just seemed silly. Then again, he knew a guy who once said he was 'death, destroyer of worlds'.

"You're cute. Want to make out?" She said, grinning like a kid in candy store, as she teetered on the barstool.

Stiles nearly choked on his drink. "Ah, no, thanks."

The girl looked completely unfazed and shrugged. "Fine." Then her demeanor quickly changed into something of excitement. "Oh my god, St. Peter is walking over here."

Stiles glanced to behind him where Peter was only to see that the gorgeous guy's eyes were fixed on Stiles as he sauntered over to where he was sitting.

"Well, hello there."

Before Stiles could reply the girl chimed in, "Hi."

Peter didn't even bother to look at the girl. Instead he just said, "Darling, would you excuse me and the newcomer for a bit? I want to get better acquainted."

If she was disappointed she hid it well as she just nodded and then walked away. Peter took her place on the stool.

Now Stiles was more than a little nervous. He expected to just watch the guy from afar while finishing his drink. He was not expecting to have to talk to him. He was also not expecting this man to have the voice of an angel. On the hand, he did come here to try to meet new people, and he was curious about this whole ''St. Peter'' thing, so maybe it'd work out.

"Hi.' Stiles finally managed to say.

"What's your name?"

Before Stiles could reply the bartender came over and handed Peter a drink. They began to talk a bit and so Stiles decided to check out Peter's tattoos up close.

Stiles found them to be really awesome. Peter had a heart with a cross through it on his wrist, black stars across his knuckles, the words 'fake your death' written on his collarbone was noticeable because of the v-neck, and many others. One of the ones that Stiles found most interesting was that went across left forearm that had the image of a film roll with four different people in it with the year 2005 written neatly at the bottom. The other one that Stiles liked was the multi-colored wolf on his right arm peeking out from under his shirt. It was really nicely done with amber, white, and black blending perfectly complimented by a border of blues.

"_Better not be another werewolf."_ Stiles thought to himself.

"See something you like?" Peter asked, drawing Stiles away from his thoughts and his staring.

"You can say that." Stiles said as smoothly as he possibly could. He didn't like being caught off guard by the older man. He fixed Peter with a flirtatious smile and mockingly gave his body a once over with his eyes.

Peter seemed to want to play a long, a sly smile gracing on his lips. "Now, now. What kind of gentleman would I be if I fucked you and didn't even know your name?"

Upon hearing the words Stiles' throat almost went dry. He didn't he could speak, but he somehow manage to croak out. "I don't think anyone ever thought you were a gentleman."

Peter waved it off and smiled. "With good reason. Now, what's your name?"

"Stiles."

"What kind of name is that?" He said with a laugh. Stiles didn't mind partly because he had been used to such a reaction throughout his life, but also because Peter had a really nice laugh.

Stiles downed the last bit of his drink and gave a shrug. "A nickname. My real name is too hard for people to pronounce so I gave up trying." He didn't add that another reason he didn't go by his real name was because it reminded him too much of his mother and that brought a lot of pain that he didn't want to deal with.

"Try me."

Stiles looked Peter with heavy doubt. Very few people could pronounce his name and he didn't believe that on top of being gorgeous, Peter could know Polish as well, saint or not. Peter seemed unfazed though and pushed a napkin forward along with a pen. Stiles sighed and wrote down his name. When he was done he leaned back and crossed his arms, ready to see the other guy fail.

Peter looked at the name, smirked, and without missing a beat he said, "Szczesny."

Stiles could be barely hold back his astonishment. He pronounced it flawlessly. If Stiles didn't already want this man to be the love of his life, he did now.

Peter looked immensely pleased at himself as he watched Stiles' disbelief. "But, I can see why you go by Stiles. It suits you."

"You've known me all of five minutes." Stiles deadpanned.

"Sometimes that's all it takes."

"True. Like how I know you must have some big ego to go around being called St. Peter."

Peter scratched the back of his head and laughed. "You heard about that? Yeah it was nickname someone gave me once and then it just kind of stuck."

"So, you're kind of a big shot around here?"

"I guess. I'm good at what I do and a lot of them appreciate that."

"And what is it that you do, exactly?"

"The Lord's work, obviously." Peter said grinning. "Actually, I'm a pharmaceutical salesman."

"Oh really?" Stiles asked, looking completely unconvinced.

"At least that's the term I choose to use. It sounds so much more professional."

It then dawned on the younger man. Stiles knew this guy was too good to be true. At least there was finally a crack in the perfect armor. "You're a dealer."

Peter waved his pointer finger at him. "Ah, ah, ah, pharmaceutical salesman."

"I am not calling you that."

"Yeah, you're right. A rose by any other name and all that. Besides, it's too pretentious even for my taste."

A minute of silence passed between them before Peter spoke again. "So, what's your story?"

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked. He knew what Peter was talking about, he just didn't feel like sharing. He had a feeling that there were a lot more interesting stories of other people, Peter included, and Stiles just wouldn't compare.

"You know what I mean. Come on. Tell me your story and I'll buy you a drink." Peter smiled. Stiles was under the impression that he was not the type to take no for an answer.

"You're not going to stop until I tell you, are you?"

"Nope." Peter replied with an emphasis on the 'p'.

Stiles then sighed, resigned to his fate. "My story is pretty boring. I just wanted to get out of the town I was in. It was too hectic. Anyways, I wanted out, besides a couple of friends there was nothing there for me." Stiles said, giving half-truths. He was not going to dive into how his dad was an alcoholic and was for the most part negligent, or how it seemed that every day was a life or death situation due to the supernatural. He didn't want to unload all his troubles and secrets onto some stranger.

"Where are you from?"

"Beacon Hills. It's upstate."

Stiles notices Peter's eyes changed a little at that, like he knew something. Peter then smirked. "I know where it is, I used to live there. It wasn't that hectic in my day. Hell, that's why I left. Too boring."

"Yeah, well, only certain parts get to be too much I guess. Unfortunately I lived in one of those parts."

Peter looked self-satisfied which was a look that suited him well. "You're not lying."

"Well, my nose didn't grow so you must be right." Stiles said with a genuine laugh. There was a brief moment when he thought he had to be careful, but this wasn't Beacon Hills and not everyone can know if he was lying or not because of super hearing. Anxiety was slowly disappearing. He turned to look at Peter. "Now, how about that drink?"

"Fine, but why don't we do it somewhere more comfortable. My place?" Peter asked as Stiles watched him reach over the bar and grab a bottle of vodka. The bartender didn't seem to care at all which would have perplexed Stiles more if he wasn't more than a little tipsy.

"Are you going to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me?" Stiles asked.

"I don't need get you drunk to do that."

"You think I'm that easy?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, just one, a skill that Stiles secretly envied. He added it to his list of reasons as to why Peter was too perfect. "My place or no?"

Peter was really good looking and if Stiles overlooked Peter's tendency to be an asshole, which he could, then there wasn't really a downside. He put on his jacket and stood up from the stool. "All right. Let's go."

_Part III_

_The St. Jimmy is the spark in the night / Bearing gifts and trust / The fixture in the city of lust_

Whatever Stiles thought he was going to walk into when he got to Peter's apartment it definitely was not the sleek and modern looking room he was currently standing in. It was rather large, or at least larger than Stiles imagined. There was kitchen with stainless steel appliances with a small island with bar stools set up so that people can eat. The living room complete with a flat screen TV, video games, a leather couch and chair. Posters were hung up and scattered haphazardly on the cream-colored walls. There was a large bookshelf with books of all sorts spilling out from it, next to it was the largest CD collection Stiles had ever seen (especially since he didn't think anyone really bought CDs anymore). One of his favorite parts of the whole set up was the spiral staircase that he presumed led up the bedroom.

"This is definitely a few steps up from the shithole I live in." Stiles said as he took his coat off and looked around.

"Yeah a lot of people are under the belief that I live on the streets or some abandoned warehouse with a mattress on the floor. I don't correct them." He said with a shrug. "Have a seat. I'll get us some glasses for this." He held up the bottle of vodka.

"You're just full of contradictions." Stiles replied as he shook his head and sat down. He watched as Peter walked over, shot glasses and vodka bottle in hand.

"Why live in squalor when I have the means to live in luxury?" He poured to shots and handed one to Stiles.

Stiles downed the shot and poured himself another one. He was still nervous and he thought that maybe drinking would take the edge off. "Good point." And then he added, "Do you make this much from dealing?" It was probably a rude question but he didn't think Peter would mind and besides he was interested.

"I fell into some money a few years back." He put his hand on Stiles' thigh and gave a reassuring smile.

"A little forwards, aren't we?" Stiles said with an uneasy laugh. His nerves were on end and it only heightened his already present awkwardness.

"You like it."

Stiles felt himself blush, "I do."

It was then that things changed. Peter's grip tightened and as a result Stiles instantly looked down at the man's hand. He tried to move away but Peter's grip was too tight. He then felt something poking him through the jeans. Stiles noticed claws coming from Peter's hands similar to ones he watched Scott have time and time again.

He tried to ignore the faint pain and leaned his head back. "Oh god you're a werewolf." Stiles deadpanned. Panic was prevalent in his voice. The mood had been killed and Stiles was hoping he wasn't next.

Peter made no movements. He was just studying Stiles with his cold blue eyes. "Yes, but you already knew that."

That took Stiles by surprise. "What are you talking about? I came to this city to get away from this craziness!"

"Aren't you a hunter? That's why I smelled wolfesbane on you."

Stiles shook his head, hoping he convince the werewolf that he was just a normal guy who had a lifetime supply of bad luck, "I smell like wolfesbane because I have a knife in my jacket. I've met so many psychopaths that I needed some protection. Believe me, my best friend is an Alpha, my other friends include a few more wolves, a kitsune, and a banshee. I am not a hunter. I've got about as much enthusiasm for them as you do." He's mouth a moved a mile a minute, but he felt like he no choice but to the let the words spill out or else he'd be killed. He looked up at Peter to meet the man's gaze.

Peter looked like he was calculating, figuring a plan and where to go from there. It took a few moments of silence, but he finally seemed to believe Stiles as he let go. "You know a banshee?"

"Yeah. She's really awesome. Studying at MIT right now."

"Impressive."

"Hell yeah." Stiles said with a small hint of pride. He always knew Lydia would do amazing things and he was really happy for her. "So, you're a Hale?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"We hear about you guys a lot. Deaton is my friend's boss, when a big bad comes to town you're usually brought up, makes sense."

Peter regarded him with an odd look, it almost looked like he was impressed. "You're a lot cleverer than I thought."

"Uh thanks?"

"So, you're friends with an Alpha? You sure like hanging out with older guys."

Stiles leaned back. He was no longer as frightened as he was before and now he was calming down. However, he still did not let his guard down. "He's my age."

At this Peter raised an eyebrow. "Born wolf?"

"True Alpha. Got bit by a rogue alpha back in the day."

Peter whistled. "Damn, you sure have some interesting friends."

"Yeah I do, but after hunters, a kanima, a Darach, and a freaking Nogitsune, I got tired of it. I'll still visit time to time but I don't want to deal with it on a weekly basis." He wasn't sure why he was telling Peter this, he really should've just gotten out of there. Staying after someone just threatened to hurt and/or kill you didn't seem to be the smartest move Stiles thought he would ever make. Yet, there he was still staying.

"Well, Beacon Hills was once a beacon for the supernatural. Though even I never met a Nogitsune." Peter laid back. The tension was beginning to disappear completely.

"You don't want to, trust me."

An awkward pause passed between them. "I didn't mean to scare you—"

"Yeah you did."

A sheepish smile graced Peter's lips even though Stiles knew that this man didn't have a sheepish bone in his body. 'Yeah, okay, I did." He shrugged. "But I have had some very bad experiences with hunters."

"Apology accepted."

"I'm guessing I'm not going to get lucky tonight?'

"Attempting to kill me kind of killed your chances, but we can hang out?" It was meant to be a statement but it came out more of a question. He didn't want to be sucked into the supernatural world anymore, but he found Peter alluring. Maybe he would just hang around him for the night.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Peter then got up and walked over to a cupboard where he pulled out a small bag and brought it over. Stiles eyed the bag suspiciously.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, you want some?"

'Can werewolves even get high?"

"That's not an answer."

"No it's a question." Stiles said, trying to buy some time. He really didn't know what he wanted to do. Drinking was one thing, but drugs? Even if it was just marijuana.

Before he could reply Peter spoke, "You don't have to if you don't want to, though you should know that it has been found to be more beneficial than harmful in most cases." He was already in the process of rolling his own joint and lighting it. Just as with everything else he did, he did it with grace. Stiles didn't think there was anyone else in the whole world who could appear to be more at ease with themselves as Peter was with himself. Or maybe the alcohol made Stiles think that was the case.

"Okay, fine." Stiles said. He figured that the worst that could happen would be that he hated it and never would do it again.

At his words Peter smiled and Stiles felt like he made the right decision. There was something great about pleasing Peter. Stiles could suddenly understand why the others held him in such a high esteem. Though, he still would never call him St. Peter. Stiles had some standards.

Peter rolled him a joint and handed it to Stiles. He took it, trying to appear less hesitant than he actually was feeling. He inhaled and immediately coughed much to Peter's amusement.

"Adorable."

Stiles fixed him with a half-hearted glare. "Shut up. I'll douse your apartment in mountain ash."

"I'd love to see you try."

"Don't test me. I've been up against the Alpha pack." Stiles said. He eventually got the hang of smoking and took another hit.

"I should stop being surprised. An Alpha pack, really?"

Stiles nodded, "They could have won the 'not as big of an asshole as you could have been' award. They tried to kill us but then a Darach showed up and it turned into an enemy of my enemy thing."

"Deucalion still in charge?'

"Yeah. Though by the end of the whole thing the Alpha pack pretty much dissolved. Two left, two got killed."

"Is Ennis dead?"

"I think? I'm pretty sure that was the guy's name who the Darach killed." Stiles said. He wasn't surprised that Peter knew him, being from Beacon Hills and all. He did wonder why Peter looked so satisfied upon hearing of Ennis' death. Then something dawned on Stiles.

"Are you an Alpha, beta, or omega?"

At this Peter's eyes flashed a bright, cold, blue. He took another hit and replied. "Beta." Stiles must have not hid his surprise well because next Peter said, "You looked confused."

"I honestly thought you were an Alpha."

"Been there. Done that. I might do it again."

"Want to elaborate?" Stiles asked, now he was really curious.

"Maybe one day when we become close friends and I get struck by a spell to make trust people. Which is to say: never."

Stiles couldn't help but feel disappointed by this, he was really interested. He decided he would just have to do his own research. Then he realized something and as a result almost jumped in the air. "Your eyes are blue."

"And you're a genius."

"You've killed someone."

Peter regarded him a cool stare. "You sure know your werewolf lore." Peter replied. "You also don't seem too concerned."

At this Stiles shifted in his seat. He really should've been more concerned that Peter had killed an innocent, but a part of him didn't care. Maybe he had an exaptation, maybe he didn't. Stiles didn't want to judge. "Part of me wants to know, part of me doesn't."

"I'm not telling you." Peter said matter-of-factly.

"Understandable."

Stiles then did something that he would later blame on the alcohol and drug in his system combined with the fact that Peter was gorgeous. Stiles leaned forward and kissed the older man.

It wasn't too long though until Stiles broke away laughing like he never laughed before.

"What is so funny?" Peter asked sounding more than a little agitated, which only made Stiles laugh more.

"You could literally be a cartoon villain. You have wolf tattoo and you're a werewolf. Can you be anymore cliché?" He flopped down on his back, still smiling.

"I liked the design." Peter climbed on top of Stiles, trying to take back control of the situation. "Now shut up and let's go back to what we we're doing."

"Yeah, but come one, it's pretty fu-" Stiles never got to finish he sentence, however, because Peter kissed him. This time was different, it was much rougher. The kiss deepened and Stiles felt Peter's hand slinking down to his crotch.

They kissed for several more minutes until Peter broke away. He looked down at Stiles, his eyes glazed over and looking full of want. "Are you sure you want this?"

Stiles nodded, words escaping him for a moment. Peter persisted. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want you." Stiles said. He then proceeded to pull Peter down for another kiss. This time it was much rougher. Stiles thought he was going to get a bruise. Peter moved farther down to Stiles' neck causing him to let out small moans.

Peter took off his shirt and Stiles was in awe of his body. He was the hottest guy Stiles had ever seen. Lean, but still muscular. The words written on his collarbone were much clearer along with a tattoo of the moon on Peter's left hipbone that Stiles loved. Peter looked at him like an artist looked at a painting in progress. He began to take off Stiles pants and then his boxers.

It was when Peter took Stiles into his mouth that Stiles thought nothing could be better. Nothing hurt, there was only pleasure. Stiles closed his eyes as Peter sucked expertly. In the first time in two months he felt good.

Stiles woke up feeling more than a little disorientated. He blinked a few times, his vision finally clearing. His surroundings and current state of mind were becoming more distinct. He was naked, laying on a bed, and there was a faint smell of cigarettes drifting through the air. After much effort Stiles sat up to find Peter sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Morning, sunshine."

"My head feels like it has been trampled on by a herd of elephants." Stiles said. His voices sounded rough to his own ears.

Peter laughed at this. He was wearing a pair of loose black sweat pants and no shirt. He looked fully composed without a hint of a hangover. Stiles really hated werewolves sometimes.

"At least you had the best, mind-blowing, sex of your life."

"So it's all downhill from here?" He laid back down and smiled to himself. He didn't remember much, but of what he did remember he liked. A lot.

"A repeat performance could always be arranged."

That took Stiles by surprise. He knew that they had a good time but he never thought Peter would be interested in doing it again. "I took you as a one-night stand sort of guy."

"I usually am, but I like you Stiles."" Peter said, turning to look over at him. Then he got up and walked over to a dresser where an ash tray laid. He put the cigarette out and jumped back into bed causing Stiles to bounce a little bit. He looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "If you're okay with not being exclusive because I don't think I could do that and I can't promise you the healthiest friendship ever, but I can promise the best fucks of your life."

Stiles sat there for a moment attempting to process the words coming out of Peter's mouth. He finally managed to ask, "Was that just a really elaborate way of asking to be fuck buddies?"

Peter barked out a laugh, "Yeah, I guess it was. You want that?"

"Sure." Stiles said without hesitation. "At least until something better comes along."

"Darling, there is no one better than me."

"I'm fuck buddies with an egomaniac."

"You like it."

"I do." They kissed again, this time it was Peter who initiated it.

_Part IV_

_I don't want to go back home/ I don't want a kiss goodnight/ I want to paralyze this moment until it dies _

A month later Stiles was laying on Peter's couch reading on of the many books on mythology that the werewolf owned. This particular book was about witches, wizard, and spells. It was like real life Harry Potter and Stiles loved it. Deaton once told him that he might have the potential for magic. Of course, at that time Stiles didn't really care. Learning magic sounded cool on paper, but when you're juggling school and possible death bringing situations, magic didn't really make the list no matter how cool it would have been.

But now he had all the time in the world, or at least he had a lot of free time during the days. His nights at the restaurant didn't take that much of his time. It wasn't his dream job, but he made enough to pay the bills so he was happy. Besides, now a days he was spending more and more time at Peter's apartment. It was not just for the sex (even though that was fucking great), it was also because Peter had a lot of interesting books and a music collection that amazed Stiles. It had gotten to the point where Stiles was around so often that Peter threw a key at him one day and told him to have it.

Stiles kept reading until he touched upon a spell that he decided to try. It was a protection spell that would keep unwanted visitors out of the desired area, in this case the apartment.

He stood up and laid the book out in front of him. He began to chant the words that the book instructed. He threw his hands in front him as he said the final words. When he was done there was a brief flash of purple light. He suddenly felt extremely tired and thought it'd be best if he lied down. Before unconsciousness took over him the wondered if it worked.

A loud crash from outside woke Stiles from his slumber. It took him a few seconds to remember what happened but the string of curse words he heard from outside the door jogged his memory rather quickly. He grinned and stood up, heading over to the door. When he opened he peered down to see a slightly disheveled Peter sitting on the floor.

"What was that?" Peter asked as Stiles offered him a hand and helped him up.

"I learned a protection spell. No enemies or annoying people can get in now." He was really proud of himself and it showed in his voice. First try and all, he did it.

Peter started to look less annoyed and more curious. "Am I annoying or an enemy?"

"Both." Stiles replied, a smile still plastered on his face. "I just needed to test it out and you were the only test subject available."

"A test subject in my own home." Peter half-heartedly grumbled as they walked inside the apartment. Peter went in the kitchen and grabbed himself a soda while Stiles went for the book that contained the spells.

"I can make it so that it doesn't happen to you again."

"I'd appreciate that." Peter said dryly. He sat down on one of the chairs that was next to the kitchen bar. Stiles sat next to him. "I also appreciate the warding. They may be useful one day."

"Maybe later on I'll get a proper thank you?"

"Perhaps." Peter replied with a sly smirk that told Stiles he was in for a treat. However, he then switched subjects. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with the supernatural?"

"It's magic. I had to try it at least once, if only for the little kid inside me who always wanted to be a Gryffindor. I never had the time before and Deaton would never give me books like this even though he would go on and on about me being a 'spark'."

"You are way more a Slytherin than a Gryffindor. Too cunning and ambitious."

Stiles looked a bit surprised. "You like Harry Potter?"

"I don't live under a rock. If you looked at books other than the spell books then you would notice the series sitting over there."

"I still believe I would be a better Gryffindor. They seemed less stuck-up."

"Considering the only Slytherin we really got to know was Draco I think it's a bit unfair to say they were all stuck up. There could have been fun-loving Slytherins." Peter said, shaking his head a bit with a smile. Then he said, "But to your earlier point, you're right. Deaton always was too secretive. It never sat well with me."

"Probably because he knew you were up to no good." Stiles said with a laugh. He only half-meant it.

Over the past month he learned a lot about Peter. Like how large the cult of 'St. Peter' actually was and how often when someone stood in the way of something he wanted, that person would mysteriously disappear. It was things that no one questioned, including Stiles himself (at least not publicly), but important things none the less. Sometimes he wondered why he was willing to be with this guy and why he was so at ease around him when for the most part everyone else was terrified. He often wondered just how fucked up he had to be to be hanging out with him, but then he realized he didn't really care.

"Puh-lease. I'm a saint." Peter said with a goofy grin. Stiles' smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"Shut up."

"Impossible. You know how I love to hear myself talk."

"Unfortunately, I do."

"Watch it or I might rescind my offer of letting use any resources I have and if you are in desperate need of any I don't have I can probably arrange for it to be purchased."

"I don't think you ever made that offer.'

"I am now, if you want it."

Stiles nodded, trying to hold back his happiness. It was already a given that Stiles could use any of his books, but what Peter was offering was pretty fantastic as it would give Stiles an almost unlimited amount of knowledge. "So, what are your plans for the night?"

Peter shrugged, "Go to the bar, hang out, then I got a pack meeting."

'The ever elusive pack rears its head." Stiles said with amusement. Peter never talked about the pack. If it wasn't for the fact that Stiles found Peter being an omega unimaginable, he would think that the pack really didn't exist.

"You want to meet them?"

Stiles turned his head so fast he thought he was going to give himself whiplash. "What?"

"Do. You. Want. To. Meet. Them." Peter replied, annunciating each word slowly as if he was talking to a child.

"Won't they be concerned because I'm not pack?" He knew the risks of bringing outsiders into packs and he was sure that Peter knew them too. That didn't mean he wouldn't ask though, he wanted to see why Peter would bring him in.

"You already know two of us. I'd have to ask Max, the alpha, but I'm sure he won't mind."

"Who else do I know?"

"Think about it."

Stiles paused at this. He really didn't know anyone else. His time was pretty much taken up by Peter and although he was introduced to a lot of people through Peter, he wasn't close to any of them. The only other person that he talked to on a semi-regular basis was…

"Christina?" He meant it as a statement but it came out as question. Peter just nodded in affirmation. "Wow. I feel like she's super badass."

The werewolf hummed in agreement and continued to talk, "I'll have to talk to my Alpha, first, but, yeah, everything should be fine unless you don't want to get mixed up in things. I know that's a deal breaker for you. "

Stiles rolled his eyes. "This is different I'm just going to one meeting just see if they exist."

That's how Stiles wound up sitting in the living room of a house that was apparently owned by all the other pack members. Peter was the only one to live on his own. Stiles finally got a glimpse into Peter's pack and he had to admit he liked them a lot. He wasn't surprised that he liked them, but he was surprised that they liked him in return. He had dealt with enough arrogant werewolves for a lifetime, he was happy to see these four weren't like that at all.

Max, the Alpha, seemed like a pretty good guy. Then again, Stiles found anyone who liked Doctor Who and Spiderman to be his new best friend. He had short brown hair and dark brown eyes. All in all he reminded him to be a lot like Scott. He had this happy, go lucky, attitude about him that made Stiles more than a little concerned since he was an Alpha. Stiles couldn't imagine him in any life or death situations. He was having a hard enough time believing that Peter was allowing him to be in charge. Stiles just hoped that Max could be a good leader when the situation called for it.

Next there was Will. He was quiet compared to the others, but Stiles and he struck up a conversation about music so the two also got along. They both had love for alternative and pop punk it seemed. He was the youngest of the pack, only seventeen, apparently a newer wolf who was still coming to terms with his abilities. Stiles remembered when he first had to help Scott and how awesome yet terrifying that time was.

As for the people in the pack that Stiles didn't already know, finally there was Heather. She seemed to be one of those people that everyone instantly liked. She reminded Stiles of Lydia as she exuberated confidence, yet she wasn't arrogant about it. She was dating Will, their relationship going on two years which Stiles found absolutely adorable. If they weren't already together he would've had to play match-maker and make it so.

Needless to say Stiles liked these people. They weren't his pack, but he could see himself fitting in easily or at least being friends with all of them.

"So you're Peter's bae?"

"I guess? We've just having fun." Stiles said, looking at Peter for help. He seemed perfectly content at watching Stiles be grilled.

"Stiles is incredibly in bed." Peter said nonchalantly much to the delight of the other pack members. Meanwhile Stiles turned a deep shade of red.

"You can stop any time now."

"No, no. This good information to know." Heather said with playful malice.

'Don't you have a boyfriend?" Christina asked.

At the point Will walked over to where Heather was sitting and sat in her lap. She tried to push him off but it was to no avail. Finally, she gave up. "Unfortunately." She mutter with a playful smile.

"Oh you know you love me."

"Yeah, I do." They pecked each other with a kiss.

Then Max strolled in, two boxes of pizza in hand, further demonstrating why Stiles liked him so much. He set the boxes down on a table in front of them and began to speak. "Alright, so there's been a series of attacks by a rogue omega. We've got to hunt the person down and make sure they no longer cause trouble. They've been keeping to attacking in the Panoramic Hill area. I want to do some scouting tonight. Teams of two for the four of your and I'll go solo." He opened the box of pizza and took out a slice. "Any questions?"

After thinking it over for all of ten seconds Stiles blurted out, "I could go and make it an even six, if you want." All eyes turned on him, he could feel their gaze and he had to admit he felt a bit awkward, but the only one he truly cared about was what Max thought.

Without any hesitation the young Alpha replied, "Sure. You can be with Peter."

"What time do we leave?" Christina asked.

Max took the last bite of his pizza and said, "I think now would be best. It'll take us some time to get there and then it'll be a long night."

"Can I bring things to make s'mores?" Heather asked. Will snickered, still in her arms.

Max smiled good naturedly and Stiles wondered who would make a better saint, Scott or Max. "Sure, do what you want. I won't ever turn down s'mores. Just make sure we have the omega taken care of first."

After that they all finished their food and got ready to go out. A half hour later the others had already started to leave and Stiles was on his way to follow them. But, then he noticed Peter hanging back. He looked back at the werewolf questioningly. "What's wrong?"

"You don't need to go." He looked serious. Blue eyes were boring into his intensely.

"You're right, I don't. But this is something I want to do. Come on." He left through the front door and headed for Peter's motorcycle. Not too long after Peter came walking behind him. If he would have looked back he may have noticed the grin on Peter's face when he left.

_Part V_

_Forget me nots and second thoughts live in isolation / Heads or tails and fairytales in my mind_

They got to the woods and Stiles instantly remembered why he hated stake outs. Until something happened it was mostly just a waiting game and Stiles had never been good at waiting. Nothing was thrilling about waiting around for an omega that may or may not show up. It was a painstaking yet necessary and Stiles knew that. He had done this many of times, but no matter how many times he did he always found the experience rather anticlimactic.

After the first two hours he thought that Peter was becoming increasingly annoyed. The werewolf didn't even bother to conceal his aggravation, he scowled and glared at Stiles for a good twenty minutes before finally saying, "Will you stop fidgeting? You're impatience is distracting."

Stiles was in the middle of throwing a pebble up in the air again and again. Watching it go up and back down. Upon hearing Peter's words he quickly let the stone fall to the ground. "I forgot how boring the watching part could be."

"You chose this life."

"Doesn't mean I have to be happy with my decision."

"Not everything in life is exciting."

"It is with you." Stiles said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. However, he was completely joking. He knew that he said he left Beacon Hills because of the craziness, but really it was because he didn't want to look at his loved ones after what the whole Nogitsune business caused. He still found the supernatural interesting and sometimes he even found it fun. These past three months with Peter had been some of the most fun times he had in a very long time. Maybe it was a result of the drugs and alcohol, but when he was with Peter even the most mundane days ended up being a good time.

"You know, since no one is out here we could have a little fun." Peter said, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"That's how horror movies start. I am not dying because we couldn't keep it in our pants for a few hours." Stiles replied even though he was more than a little tempted by the offer.

Peter shrugged and leaned against a big oak tree. "Relax. Nothing is going to happen."

"Says the first victim of the movie who will get devoured by some creature two minutes after uttering that sentence."

"You better hope that doesn't happen. Then where would you get your fun?" Peter said with a laugh, flashing a smile. "It's just an omega. It won't hu—" Peter didn't finish his sentence. Instead he pushed himself off the tree and looked much more serious.

"What is it?" Stiles asked. He wasn't panicking, but he never saw Peter in action before and he had to admit it was a little unnerving.

"I heard something. Stay there." He commanded and then walked over a few feet in front of him. Stiles was about to protest Peter's patronizing attitude, but then a figured jumped out and lounged at Stiles. He yelled and fell on the ground. His right shoulder was in a ton of pain and when he touched he saw that there was blood coming out of it. He heard growling and fighting, when he finally sat up to see what was going on he saw Peter standing over the omega, his foot on the werewolf's throat.

The omega was a young guy who looked to be probably around Peter's age. He was still shifted as well, but unlike Peter his breathing was heavier and his eyes were a bright yellow.

For Peter's part he looked more annoyed than anything else. He looked calmed and barely affected by the events that just occurred. If wasn't for the fact that when Peter looked down at the omega he looked like he was going to crush the guy's throat, Stiles would think he was bored.

"Please…" The omega rasped out. It must've been hard to talk with someone's two hundred dollar boot pressing on your windpipe. He was no longer shifted, but he looked like he was in immense pain.

"At least you know your manners." Peter replied with a snarl. He showed no indication of letting any pressure off. He then looked up at Stiles. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Want me to call Max?"

Peter nodded and then the omega spoke up again. "I didn't mean to hurt any of them." Stiles could barely contain an eye roll as he took his cell phone out. He could tell from Peter's expression that he the same.

"What? No control? Evidently there will be an excuse." Peter drawled sounding utterly uninterested.

Stiles made the call to Max who sounded pleased. He must have hated stake outs as much as Stiles did. He said he would be there in a few minutes and after that Stiles ended the call and put the phone away.

"Come on, you can let me go. I promise I'll never hurt anyone again." The omega said desperately. He looked up pleadingly at Peter who was having none of it.

"Lucky for you, that's not my decision to make." Peter said and then added, "If it were up to me I'd kill you right here and now. You hurt my friend and that's not something I tolerate."

At this the omega's eyes widened even further, something that Stiles didn't know was possible seeing as he already looked like terrified caught prey. He moved his head a best as he could to look at Stiles, "Look, man, I'm sorry. You're not really that hurt though right?"

Stiles winced as he moved his arm. All in all, yeah, the injury wasn't that bad, but he was still angry that the omega attacked him in the first place. "Just a flesh wound."

Peter rolled his eyes.

He looked back down at the omega and then back at Peter. "He doesn't look like he's going to cause any more damage. You could probably let him up."

At this the omega looked up at Peter hopefully, but Peter was having none of it. "I rather like being on top."

"Oh I know."

It was then that Max showed up. He was alone which left Stiles wondering what happened to Christina. As if reading his mind Max said, "Christina got called into work. I figured I could handle things." He then turned towards the omega. "So this is the troublemaker?"

"Yeah." Peter replied. He finally let the omega stand up.

"Look, I'm really sorry-"

"I want you out of here and by here I mean the area. For good." Max said deadly serious.

For some reason the omega looked shocked. "What?"

"You've killed people. You hurt Stiles. I want you gone. This is a generous offer. Some like Peter here would probably be more than happy to kill you. But, killing isn't really my thing and I've tried to keep my pack away from it so I'm giving you a chance." He took a step forward looking the omega straight in the eyes and spoke again, "Do we have an understanding?"

The omega looked speechless and Stiles could sympathize with him. It was the first time that Stiles saw that Max was commanding respect and he had to admit it was a little scary. Gone was the easy-going happy guy, standing before Stiles was a stern and deadly alpha.

Peter didn't look that concerned. His demeanor still looked utterly bored mixed with a little disappointment. Max was right, Pete would probably love to tear into the omega.

An unsettling silence fell between them all. Stiles was just hoping that the omega would hurry up and say that he would leave so that he and Peter could go fuck. The omega was slightly shaking and Stiles took that as sign that he was scared. It wasn't until he noticed both Peter and Max tense that he realized he was wrong. The omega lunged forward going for Max. Claws and fangs out on both sides, they began to fight each other. Stiles wasn't too concerned, an omega versus and alpha, the odds were in Max's favor.

Then something unexpected happened and another figured came leaping out of the shadows. This time it was female. Black hair and glowing yellow eyes. She went for Peter which Stiles couldn't help but think was a mistake. Peter had already been itching for a fight, she wouldn't be happy that she chose to scratch it.

At this point Stiles was a little unsure what he should do. Both werewolves seemed fully engaged in their fight and he didn't think he could be much use. Peter and his opponent moved to another part of the woods, giving themselves more room to fight. It wasn't until the original omega that had been fighting Max managed to pin the alpha down that Stiles had cause to worry.

Peter was too far away to help out and Stiles had no idea Will and Heather were. He just knew that he had to do something quick or else Max might be hurt badly or worse. With little time to think Stiles closed his eyes and began to recite some words he remembered from the spell book. He pointed his right hand at the female omega and the next he knew there was a flash of green light and she screamed, scrambling to get off Max. Her screaming did not last long though as soon she collapsed on to the ground.

Max looked as surprised as Stiles felt. He looked from Stiles to the girl back to Stiles. He got up and walked over to the girl's unconscious form, looking like he was taking her pulse. "Um, well, she's dead."

Stiles knew that he should probably be more freaked out about killing someone than he was currently, but it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last. At least this time was to save a good guy and he didn't know the girl. Little comforts, but comforts all the same.

"Sorry, Max, I know you didn't want them dead. I just didn't know what to do. I didn't even know if the spell would work or what it would do for sure."

Max shook his head, "It's okay. They had their chance. You saved my life Stiles and I won't forget that."

It was then that Peter came out into the clearing. The moonlight hit him perfectly and Stiles could see that he was covered in blood. He was still breathing heavily from the fight but other than that he looked fine.

It should not have turned Stiles on as much as it did. An inappropriate boner was close to making an appearance. He just hoped that the two werewolves would not notice.

"If we want to get technical about it, you saved my life too. Your magic trick distracted the weakling enough that I got a hit in. He didn't make it." Peter said and if he was trying to sound remorseful over it he failed miserably.

"Nothing can be done about it now. Like I said, they had their chance," Max pulled out his phone and seemed to check something. "If you two want to have s'mores, Heather has them waiting."

Peter shrugged. "I'm not usually one to pass up on free chocolate but I think they taste better without blood so I'm going to pass in favor of a shower."

Max nodded with a small smile. "Understandable." He then looked at Stiles. "How about you?"

"Magic seems to take a lot out of me. I might need to take a rain check on this one as well."

Max gave a knowing smile as he looked between Peter and Stiles. "Your loss. I'm going to go get me some marshmallow goodness." With that Max shifted and ran off into the deep woods.

After making sure that Max was long gone, Stiles took a few steps towards Peter. "You okay?" It was a stupid question but he figured he would as anyways.

Peter just flashed a smile. "You already know the answer to that. Pretty impressive stunt you pulled back there. I'm going to have to get you more magic books."

"It was nothing."

Peter put his hand under Stiles' chin making the younger boy look up at him. "That was not nothing. Very few people could do that with as little training as you have had."

Stiles felt pride surge through him. Peter's praise did not come often and when it did it was not something to take lightly. Nothing felt better to Stiles than making Peter happy.

Peter then took Stiles' hand and the next thing that Stiles knew the pain in his shoulder was dulling. He had seen Scott and Isaac do this to many others, taking their pain away, but Stiles never had it happen to him. A few seconds later Peter let go looking like what he just did didn't affect him at all.

"You didn't need to do that. You're already hurt. My injuries are nothing."

Stiles smirked. "Think I could be rewarded then? You covered in blood post-battle is really doing thing to me."

Peter hummed. "I've noticed. I also believe that a reward could be arranged."

After mind-blowing shower sex Stiles and Peter retreated to the bed where they began to cuddle. No one would ever guess, it was even a huge surprise to Stiles, but Peter was a cuddler.

"How's your shoulder?" Peter asked. Stiles felt him lightly trace his fingers across the bandages.

"Fine. Believe me I've had worse." Stiles replied. He was getting tired. Going after rogue omegas and hot shower sex really took a toll on him.

"Like with what happened here?" Peter traced a particular bad scar that was across Stiles' back. It was thin but long. Stiles tensed slightly and of course Peter noticed.

"A hunter. The biggest asshole hunter to ever step in Beacon Hills."

"What was their name?"

"Gerard Argent." Stiles said bitterly. It wasn't not his finest moment. That night, the night that he won his team the championship, was supposed to be one of the better nights of his life. Instead it was plagued of memories of Gerard beating him while Boyd was being tortured.

This time Peter tensed so Stiles pressed on. "You know him?"

There was no reply and so Stiles flipped around in bed so that he was facing Peter. "What's wrong?"

Something in Peter's eyes seemed to change. It was like they darkened. The question still hung in the air and Stiles was afraid he touched on something really bad. Then Peter spoke. "You're familiar with the Hale fire?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah. Not much happens in Beacon Hills. It was a pretty big story." A realization then hit Stiles. He connected the invisible dots. "The Argents did it?"

Peter looked solemnly. "Yes. Well, Gerard's daughter in particular."

"So when Kate died three years ago and Gerard came to town looking for revenge on werewolves. He was really looking for-?" He let the question linger even though he thought he knew the answer. He just wanted confirmation.

"I killed her. Much like Gerard, I wanted revenge for my loved ones."

A long time ago, maybe even a year ago, in another lifetime, Stiles may have been troubled over the fact that he was in bed with a killer. But Stiles's morals had always been darkened around the edges. The nematon and Nogitsune business didn't help matters much and without Scott as a compass Stiles found himself caring less and less.

Besides, if someone murdered his family or friends he might've done the same.

"Gerard said an Alpha was behind it." Stiles said, thinking out loud. When Gerard left town he was so relieved that Stiles never stopped to think about the reasoning behind it all. Sure Gerard wanted revenge, but his revenge seemed encompassing. He just really hated werewolves and wanted them all dead. Stiles and his friends were so concerned that he was after them that Stiles never thought who actually killed Kate, it didn't seem to matter that much at the time.

"I told you I was an Alpha once upon a time." Peter said nonchalantly. "And before you ask. I was killed, but I resurrected myself which is why I'm here now but not an Alpha."

"Damn."

Peter laid on his back, put his hands behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling. "Weird that our fates seem so intertwined."

"You believe in fate?" Stiles didn't know why he sounded so surprised.

"Crazier things have happened. Werewolves. The Banshees. I think fate might be possible."

Stiles nodded and shut eyes. "If only fate worked a bit faster. We could've had so many more sexy times." He began to drift asleep until a nasty realization hit him. He sat up straight and looked straight at Peter. "Wait if you were an Alpha three years ago and killed Kate. You were the rogue Alpha that bit Scott! You literally are the cause of like everything terrible in my life!"

Now sitting up himself, Peter looked mildly concerned, but not as concerned as Stiles would've liked. "Was wondering how long it would take you to figure that out."

"I can't believe this. You bit him without consent. You were the worst possible Alpha ever. I had to guide him, thankfully Deaton was there or else it would've been worse. You just bit him, killed Kate, and fucked off to what? Here? Do you know how much you suck?"

"I do and so do you. If I recall you liked my sucking quite much a half hour ago." Peter said with a shit-eating grin. It only caused Stiles to be more infuriated.

"So not the point." He growled. He stood up. He couldn't be in this room anymore. He didn't want to see Peter's face anymore. It was all his fault. If he didn't bite Scott the way he did they wouldn't have had half the shit happen to them like they did.

Stiles began to search for a clean pair of pants and a shirt. He looked frantically, tossing things aside with more force than he should've used.

Peter just looked equal parts amused and displeased. "You can go if you want, but will you let me explain my past a bit before you storm out of here?

Stiles found a shirt and was now looking for a shirt. Peter continued, "Sit down and I'll explain. Then you can go and you'll never have to see me again. Please, Stiles."

Shirt in hand, Stiles paused. He had never heard Peter use the word please. He was being serious and Stiles felt he was owed an explanation. "Fine. But I swear, you better be serious about this."

"You heard about the fire, but did you know that there were only four survivors? Out of seventeen people only four lived. Two of my nieces, my nephew, and myself. My nephew and niece were both at school fortunately. My youngest niece was only nine. I got her out just in time and she ran off. After I got her out I went back to try to get some of the others out, but before I could the flames progress and part of the house collapsed on me. A majority of my body was covered in burns. I went into a coma for two years."

He became quiet for a moment and Stiles found himself pitying Peter. It was probably the last thing that Peter ever wanted, but Stiles couldn't help it. He then spoke again. "Do you know what that's like for one of us? It's not a pleasant sleep. Imagine it. Being trapped in your body, but still being fully cognizant. Unable to do anything other than listen to your own thoughts slowly driving you absolutely and totally insane, minute-by-minute, day-by-day. For two years. When I finally was healed enough all I had on my mind was revenge. To do that I needed to become stronger. So, yeah, to do that I needed to become Alpha and after that I needed a pack. Your friend was the easiest and most convenient target. It was a matter of wrong place and wrong time."

"I was out of my mind. The best thing that happened was when I killed Kate she had a hunter friend with her that killed me. When I was resurrected I was considerably less insane. I moved here and now here we are." He leaned back and relaxed. He looked at Stiles as if he was analyzing his reaction.

Stiles was rendered speechless. Peter's story made sense and was most likely not a lie. He knew what it was like to not have control of your body, to be trapped in your own body. The difference was that Peter was like that for two years and had his whole family killed. The survivors left him alone. Stiles was only possessed for a short time and he had his family and friends. Who knows what would happen if he didn't have them.

He sighed and dropped the shirt that was in his hand. He climbed back into bed. "I'm still slightly mad, but I'm too tired to walk back to my apartment." Stiles muttered as he pulled more of the blanket over him effectively hogging it.

"Of course."

_Part VI_

_This is the dawning of the rest of our lives / On holiday_

The two months following the omega werewolf incident went really well. It was some of the most fun times of Stiles' life. He and Peter had been going strong, they were together almost every day. Most days they would go out and get into some trouble, but there were days where they just enjoyed each other's company. Stiles also became closer to the pack.

Pack nights have become one of Stiles' favorite past times. They would just hang out, eat a lot of food, and watch movies or something. It made Stiles feel like he belonged. Sure, he had the pack in Beacon Hills, but they never really had any time to relax. It was always one disaster after the next. Here, in the city though, it was such a big place that the pack wasn't held responsible for protecting everyone and everything. To Stiles, that was a great feeling.

Now he was sitting in the pack's apartment. They just finished watching Wolf Cop, probably one of the best worst movies ever made, especially when watching with actual werewolves. It was only the middle of the day so there was plenty of time for shenanigans left.

Peter was sitting next to Stiles, one arm on the back of the couch behind Stiles' neck and one hand laying lazily on his other side holding a beer.

Heather and Will were sitting on the floor. Heather was sitting in front of Will, laying into him with his arms around her. They really were the picture perfect couple.

Even Christina was there which was a rarity since she was usually insanely busy with her job. Max was also there, sitting over in a chair looking on at the pack with a sort of the fondness. Stiles couldn't blame him, it was a nice picture.

They were currently arguing over which movie to watch next in their marathon of the bad movies. The top contender seemed to be "Birdemic" which finally won out. Max got up to find the link to the movie on Stiles' laptop. After a few minutes he pulled the link up and turned to them all, "Anyone want another beer?" He asked.

A chorus of "yes" went all around except Heather who remained quiet. Max shrugged it off and went into the kitchen. Will looked at Heather curiously, "You okay? You usually have a least a little alcohol when watching the likes of Wolf Cop."

Without missing a beat and as neutral as ever she replied, "Well, I heard that it's not good to drink when you're pregnant."

Max came walking back into the room right as she finished speaking and almost dropped the bottles he was holding. Everyone was shocked, but not as shocked as Will.

Will's eyes were wide and a grin broke out. If it wasn't for the fact that Heather was laying on top of him Stiles suspected that Will would've jumped up with joy. "We're going to have a baby?!" Heather smiled back looking equally as happy. She nodded. "How did this happen?" He asked.

"Well you see, when a mommy and a daddy truly love each other-" She started with a giggle, "Actually, I just found out today. I was going to tell you later and make it a bigger thing, but this seemed as good time as ever."

Stiles looked around. Christina was looking like a kid in a candy store. Max looked incredibly happy, even Peter looked at the couple with warmth.

Will kissed Heather passionately. When they pulled apart Heather asked, "So, you're happy about this? Because I was worried. Like, we are so young."

Will looked at her intensely, his face was full of love. It really was a beautiful thing. "Babe, you're my world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We'll make it work. You'll be a great mom."

"This is starting to get way too cute. Disgustingly cute." Peter joked causing Stiles to lightly smack him on the arm.

Stiles always heard about the pack being like family, and he felt that connection with Scott and Lydia, but no one really else in Beacon Hills. Even with those two it was a faint connection, especially now. But when he looked around the room one more time he felt it, he felt like family, and it was beautiful.

Living with Peter wasn't the easiest thing in the world sometimes. Due to his 'job' he went out on really odd hours and sometimes he would come home higher than a kite. Of course Stiles was no saint himself, he would sometimes join Peter on his excursions. He never stuck around for the deal to be made, but he would often hang around in a nearby bar or something and wait for Peter to be done so that they could go celebrate and spend his earnings.

One morning Stiles woke up with a splitting headache. It was almost a common occurrence for him to wake up with a terrible hangover, he sometimes wished he could build a tolerance for them. This one was particularly bad as he couldn't remember anything that happened the previous night. All he remembered was Peter being in a slightly pissed off mood and so they went out to get wasted. It appeared they succeeded in their mission.

Peter was still sleeping comfortably next to him. Stiles sometimes wondered how such an asshole could sleep so peacefully. He looked at the clock that sat next to the bed, it was 10:32 in the morning. Stiles figured he could either try to go back to sleep or get up or make some breakfast. He was never good at falling back asleep once he was up so he chose the latter.

It wasn't until he stood up that he felt a soreness from his chest near his left shoulder. He looked down and saw some bandages on it. Stiles was now worried, how he just now noticed this was a mystery to him. What the hell did he do last night? He pulled the bandages off a bit and revealed a tattoo of a compass. It was just simple and black, but there it was on his front left shoulder blade staring him in the face.

He put the bandages back in place and wheeled back towards the bed. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Peter. "You let me get a tattoo?" Stiles half yelled.

At this Peter woke up looking startled. His head shot up and he looked at Stiles wild eyed, then he blinked a few times like he was trying to comprehend Stiles' words. It didn't take him long to put two and two together. Soon enough he relaxed and laid his head against the pillow once more. Grinning, he said, "You wanted it."

"Friends are supposed to stop other friends from making stupid drunk decisions."

"Well yeah, but you weren't drunk. You had maybe one beer. You said you wanted to do something crazy. Apparently that's your idea of crazy."

Now Stiles kind of felt bad. It was slowly coming back to him, he did say he wanted to try something new last night and he took up Peter's suggestion of getting a tattoo. He sat back down, slight relief washing over him.

Peter kept going looking mischievously, "It wasn't until after the tattoo that you got completely plastered. That you began going off about wanting to get more."

"That's enough now, thanks."

"You wanted my name on your ass." Peter said, voice full of amusement. He was so obviously delighting in Stiles' embarrassment.

Stiles groaned. Embarrassing drunk stories of himself was not something he was in the mood to listen to, it was far too early. Especially when these stories were told by Peter, it just made it all the worse because Stiles always had a fear that he wasn't good enough for Peter. He didn't want him to think that Stiles' was an idiot because of things he did while drunk. "Seriously, that's really enough."

"You said it would be a nice declaration of your love to me."

Stiles felt himself turn five shades of red and groaned louder. He couldn't believe he said that, he was really hoping Peter was lying, but that was just wishful thinking, "That's it. I can't live here anymore. Just put me out of my misery already."

Peter laughed. "Oh come on. Drunk you is hilarious. You were so happy with the ink last night. You said, and I quote, "I'm as cool looking as you are Petie!"

Stiles put his head in his hands, trying to make the amount of embarrassment he was feeling go away. He then flopped down so that his head was in Peter's lap. "Oh god. That's terrible. I didn't really say that, did I? I hate my life. So much." He grumbled.

"I have to say. I'm not a huge fan of the name Petie either." Peter replied with a chuckle. He put his arms around Stiles, making sure that he didn't disturb the bandages, and held him against him. "Come on. I think it's nice and Tre did a good job, so there's that. You definitely could've picked worse."

Stiles rolled his eyes but he did feel a sense of comfort as he leaned into Peter. "According to you I almost did." He said with only a hint of bitterness. "Besides, you're just saying that."

"Stiles, am I really someone who lies to protect others' feelings?" He was right. Peter was a lot of things, but he was not someone who cares about other people's feelings. He says what he means and doesn't give a shit what other people think. It was one of the reasons Stiles loved him.

"Good point."

Not too long after the tattoo incident things seemed to have fallen back into its routine. It wasn't until Stiles was heading to the bar to meet Peter one day that anything of interest happened.

It was the middle of the day. Peter told him he had some business to finish up but that Stiles could meet him here and then they would go shopping for somethings that Stiles' needed for his magic practice.

He was about to walk in though the side entrance to the bar that connected to an alley when some kid stopped him. Stiles used the word 'kid' loosely. The boy looked to be around sixteen. He had jeans on that were covered in holes, a raggedy black tshirt, and smelt like he didn't understand the concept of a bath.

Stiles was going to ignore the kid but before he got the chance the kid put a hand on his shoulder and pushed back from the entrance to the bar.

"You're not allowed in there."

Stiles looked confused. "Uh I'm pretty sure it's a public place and it's not closed." He attempted to walk in there one more time with no avail. The kid stepped in front of him. It was then that Stiles noticed how pointed the kid's ears were and that he there was some violet in his otherwise green eyes. There was definitely something different about this kid. "Look, my friend is in there. I'm supposed to be meeting him."

"You know Saint Peter?" The kid asked.

He nodded. Hopefully knowing Peter would get him in. "You mean Peter? Yeah, we're friends."

"_Saint _Peter is meeting with my mistress right now. You'll have to wait." The boy said completely serious. "Besides, St. Peter doesn't have friends. Especially with the likes you." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He might as well have just told Stiles that the sky was blue.

Stiles couldn't help but feel kind of offended. Who was this kid to say who can be or who can't be Peter's friend? He had half a mind to tell him just how friendly he would get with Peter. He sometimes forgot just how serious some people take Peter as he was their lord and savior. The way in which the boy spoke of Peter was like he was speaking of the most precious thing in the world.

It was then that the kid's appearance and word choice made slight sense to Stiles. "Are you a fae?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Just getting that now, are you? Yes, genius."

Well, now Stiles was intrigued. Out of all the supernatural he had been up against, the faeries were never one of them. The closest interaction he ever had with them were from what he read in books. He had to admit that the stereotype of them being extremely arrogant was ringing true.

"Ah cool." Was all Stiles managed to say. A few minutes of silence passed between them. The fae boy was still coming off as standoffish and glared at Stiles the whole time.

Stiles, never one to stay quiet for long, decided to speak again. "And for your information. Me and Peter are friends. Hell, I stay over at his house like every day."

The boy seemed to have ignored this, "He doesn't have friends. He just uses people."

Stiles was going to retort back and say that he was wrong, then he thought that maybe the fae had some truth to him. Stiles knew that Peter would often use people, he was not a great guy, but that didn't mean that Peter was using him.

Still, Stiles was going to say something back, but then the door to the bar opened and out strolled a lovely looking woman. She had long black hair and alabaster skin. She wore a low cut red dress and had the posture of someone who was better than anyone else and knew it. Stiles' didn't need to see through the glamour on her to know that she was also fae. Without a glance or word to Stiles she and the boy left.

Seconds later Peter came out looking very smug. It wasn't until he spotted Stiles that he dropped some of his arrogance. "You're early."

He said it in such a way that it made Stiles feel kind of terrible like maybe he shouldn't have come. He knew that Peter said that they weren't exclusive all those months ago, but it sure felt like they were. He didn't want to think of what Peter and the fae woman could have possible done in thee, and he tried not to, but it was hard.

"I got off of work earlier than I thought."

"Cool. Shall we go, then? I'm starving." Peter asked as if everything was right as rain between them.

"Maybe if you stocked your fridge with actual food and not just alcohol and Reeses, you'd be okay." Stiles said with only a hint of bitterness.

If Peter noticed he didn't care. "Like me, Reeses are a gift to mankind. Remember that."

_Part VII_

_Nobody likes you / Everyone left you / They're all out without you havin' fun_

A loud pounding woke Stiles from his seep. He laid naked on the couch, beer bottles and magic book scattered around him. He started the previous night out practicing magic, moved on to drinking, and then ending it all with great sex with Peter. He dreaded that he would have to clean up, but it was worth it. He looked around and assumed that Peter was still sleeping in their room.

The knocking on the door continued.

"I'm coming." Stiles half-shouted as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his waist.

He made his way to the door and when he opened it he found a pleasant surprise. Standing in front of him was Scott. He looked no different than when Stiles left him. It was nice seeing the same old Scott.

"Scotty! What's up?" Stiles' smile broadened and he stepped aside. "Come on in."

Scott stepped in and gave a small smile. He looked parts nervous and relieved. An odd combination if there ever was one. "I came to check in on you. I haven't heard from you in months."

Stiles closed the door and the joy he felt at seeing his friend fizzled a bit. He suddenly realized just how crappy of a friend he had been. When he first moved here he tried to write to Scott at least once a week and he would always call his dad. Now that he had become more comfortable in the city though, now that he had friends like Christina, and more importantly Peter, his calls and letters became less frequent.

He gave an uneasy chuckle and scratched the back of his head, "Sorry. I've been the worst friend ever. Things have just gotten so crazy, but that's not really an excuse."

Scott seemed to be looking around the apartment with some distaste. Stiles was now cursing the chaos left behind after last night's activities even more. "It's okay. You know how I like to mom you."

"Oh I know. First few weeks here I almost missed it." Stiles laughed and then gestured to the couch, "You can sit. I'm going to slip some clothes on." He walked over to the corner of the room where his pants from the previous night were laying on the floor. He put them on and then walked over and sat next to Scott.

"Not that I don't love you, but my curiosity is getting the best of me. How did you find me?" Stiles asked since he never gave Scott Peter's address and he didn't tell his father about Peter, he was wondering how his friend found him in the city.

Scott shrugged. "I asked around. Seemed everyone knew who 'St. Peter' was but no one knew where he lived. Wasn't until I happened upon Christina that she told me."

At this Stiles laughed, "Isn't the St. Peter thing the most hilarious thing you've ever heard?"

Scott didn't look that amused however. Instead he looked serious. "Stiles, are you sure about this guy?"

"Uh, Scott, I basically live with him. I'm sure about him."

"It's just the things I heard about him… he doesn't seem like the best guy to hang around with and you don't look so good yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"You look paler than usual and really tired. You have bruises all over you. Lying around naked with beer bottles everywhere at two in the afternoon is hardly you. I'm just worried." Scott said looking like more and more like a concerned puppy. His face made it harder for Stiles to be more offended than he was. He loved his friend, he really did but there were times when he was too protective.

Stiles took a calming deep breathe. "Not that it really matters, but these bruises? From myself. I was practicing magic two days ago and one of the spells went wrong. As for the drinking, I'm an adult Scott, I'm allowed to get plastered in my own place if I feel like it. Seriously you act as if-" He was going to continue but Scott cut him off.

"He's a drug dealer Stiles."

Stile shrugged and leaned back. "I know and I'm okay with that. It's not like he pressures me into anything."

"Stiles, that's not okay! He breaks the law and helps people ruin their lives."

"No, it's kind of not. But you don't know what some of those people have been though. You just know the bad that Peter does, you miss some of the good too." Stiles replied defensively. He had seen it. New kids coming to the streets, lost and broken, Peter helped them get on their feet and adjust to the lifestyle.

"I cannot sit by and watch you do this. He's the reason you haven't talked to anyone from Beacon Hills."

"Scott, you cannot blame my own mistakes on him. I got wrapped up in new things. I joined a new pack. I made friends. I was busy. It's not like you or Lydia are the most available people either." Stiles said with an edge in his tone. He did not appreciate Peter being attacked like this. He really just wanted a relaxing time with an old friend. He was not expecting an onslaught of overprotective mothering from his friend.

"You found a new pack?"

"I guess I did forget to tell you in those letters that Peter was a werewolf and that I met his pack? Christina is a wolf too. We all got along and next thing you know I'm the fun human in the pack again who comes up with the crazy plans that work."

Stiles couldn't help but notice the look of betrayal that was written across Scott's face. He started to feel kind of bad. He thought he probably shouldn't have brought up the pack. "I thought you wanted a break from it all."

"I did. Though it lasted maybe a whole month. Really, it was all just a crazy random coincidence. Went to a bar, picked up Peter, next thing you know I find out he's a werewolf and again, he didn't pressure me into meeting the pack or going on any adventures. Actually, he was pretty guarded about it, but once I met the pack they were all super cool."

"I think I was the one to pick you up at the bar." A voice drawled. Of course it was then that Peter decided to show his face, descending down the spiral stair case that led to his room. His hair was mussed up and he was only wearing a black tank top with red boxers. He looked from Stiles to Scott and back to Stiles. "Hey."

Before Stiles could make a snarky comment back Scott's eyes flashed red and his took on defensive posture. "Are you Peter?"

"If I say yes are going to get angrier?"

"Yes."

"Well, then yes, my name is Peter. Nice to meet you, Scott." Peter said in a lighted-heartedly. He didn't seem to mind the rage emitting from Scott at all. Instead he grabbed two glasses and poured water into them. He walked over and handed one to Stiles while taking a sip from one himself.

"How do you know my name?" Scott growled.

"Well besides the fact that Stiles has been practically yelling it for the past ten minutes, waking me up from my beauty sleep, Stiles has talked about you before."

"You need to leave Stiles alone." Scott said in as much as a threatening that he could muster. Stiles wanted to crawl into the couch cushions and die.

Peter raised an eyebrow and looked utterly unconcerned. "He's a big boy. He can make his own decisions. Well, most of them. Have you seen his fashion choices?"

"Will you two relax? You're both my favorite people in the world and I'd love for you two to get along." Stiles said trying to play peacemaker. He knew the chances of it working were slim to none but he thought he would give it a go anyways.

"He's not good for you Stiles."

"Let him decide that for himself. After all, I did wonders for you." Peter said and Stiles paled. He was going to kill Peter and make sure he never resurrected himself.

"What does that mean?" Scott asked, genuinely confused.

"Peter, I swear to go-" Before Stiles could finish his sentence Peter spoke.

"When I bit you all those years ago. I bet you wouldn't be the assertive Alpha you are today if it wasn't for me." Peter said, flashing his eyes red and giving a predatorily smile.

Stiles just put his head in his hands. This was not going to go well.

Of course all of this only riled Scott up further. His claws were out, his eyes were red. He looked at Stiles. "Did you know?

Stiles shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He liked it so much better when his life in Beacon Hills stayed separate from his life now. "Uh, yeah. Peter told me a while back." This didn't seem to Scott's anger so Stiles tried to amend it. "But you got to hear him out! He was out of his mind when he did that! Come on Scott, what happened was in the past. You give loads of other people second chances."

It seemed to work. Well for the most part. Scott's claws were no longer out and it looked like he was calming down a bit. Stiles could tell he was still pissed and he had a right to be, but Stiles knew how Peter could get and didn't want a fight to break out.

Silence fell between them all. Stiles still felt uncomfortable, Scott still was angry, and Peter looking perfectly content sipping his water.

"I still don't like it." Scott finally said. He stood up and looked down at Stiles. "But, if this is what you want then far be it from to stop you."

"Scott, come on, let's go get some coffee or something. Catch up? I want to hear about how everyone in Beacon is doing."

"Maybe some other time Stiles. I think I need to go on a walk alone for a bit." He turned to face Peter. "If you hurt him. I will end you."

Peter simply rolled his eyes. "I'm so scared."

"Take care of yourself, Stiles." Scott said before leaving out the door.

Part VIII

Summer has come and passed / The innocent can never last

After the blowup with Scott things seemed to have settled back down. Stiles tried to call his friend so many times to try to make it up to him, but Scott was having none of it and Peter got so tired of it that he broke the phone. Stiles just hoped that eventually his friend would come to terms with things and they could go back to being bros.

In the meantime he still had his pack. He and Max had been hanging out more and more. They really liked playing Call of Duty together and watching Marvel movies. It was an upside for Stiles, he seemingly lost one bromance but gained another.

That is why he was now headed over to the pack's apartment. He, Max, and Will were going to binge watch Daredevil on Stiles' Netflix account. It just premiered that day and so they planned to just watch it start to finish.

He walked up the stairs and opened to the door to the apartment. It was not an uncommon occurrence for Stiles to let himself in. As soon as he turned the door handle though, all sense of content and happiness was drained from him.

Blood was everywhere, the walls were splattered in thick red. It was like a messed up version of a Jackson Pollock painting. A fight had obviously broken out. There was broke bits of furniture everywhere. As Stiles walked in the room further he heard soft sobs were heard from the corner. He went that direction and when he saw the scene before him he almost started crying too.

Heather kneeling in front of Will, cradling his head in her lap. He wasn't moving and his clothes were drenched in blood. Stiles knew that the worst had occurred. Heather either didn't hear Stiles approach or she didn't care. Her gaze was transfixed on Will.

Stiles couldn't even imagine what she was going through. Will was the love of her life, the father of her soon to be born child, and now he was dead. Stiles was having trouble comprehending it himself. He really liked Will, they had become such good friends and now he was gone. Still, Stiles tried to push his emotions aside for the time being and figure out what happened. He would get the bastard who did this if it was the last thing Stiles did.

Calmly, Stiles asked. "Heather?" There was still no response so he kneeled down near the two. "Heather? What happened?"

She still didn't look away from Will but she did seem to hear him this time. "He's dead. He killed him." She said, her voice quiet and broken.

"Who killed him?"

"Max."

Stiles reeled back in disbelief. He was sure she didn't just say what he thought she said. "What?"

This time she looked up at him. Mascara was running down from her eyes. It looked like she had been crying for hours. "It was Max. He went out to get some take-out for your guys' movie night. When he came back he was not like himself. I've never seen him so angry or so sadistic. He was cruel. He was saying things that didn't make sense. It was him, but it wasn't. His eyes were so cold. Will tried to talk to him and soon enough Max attacked him. Will fought so bravely, he was so afraid that Max was going to go after me." She paused, looking back down at her fallen loved one. Crying once more she said, "Will gave it his all, but he couldn't hurt Max, they were friends. Max, however, didn't feel the same way. He killed him."

Stiles was at a loss for words. This situation was just so fucked up. He had no idea what to do, but he knew he had to do something. From what Heather told him it sounded like Max was possessed by something. If anyone knew what it was like to be in that situation it was Stiles.

"Alright. I'm going to call Christina and stay with you until she gets here. Then I'm going to find Max and stop him." He said out loud more for his benefit than for hers. Talking out loud helped him process things better sometimes.

He did what he said he was going to do and called Christina. She of course said she would be there immediately. He hated being the bearer of bad news and the way Christina's voice cracked after he told her about Will almost broke Stiles' heart.

After calling Christina he decided that Peter would be next to call. Mainly because if he was going to go after an insane, possible possessed, Max he would prefer to not do it alone. The only problem was that Peter was not picking up his damn phone. Stiles finally decided to just send out a few texts that explained the situation. Telling someone that their friend has been murdered by their other friend through text message seemed like a pretty shitty thing to do, but Stiles was out of options. He needed Peter's help as soon as possible and he thought that it would be the most attention-grabbing way since the jerk was answering.

It didn't take long for Christina to show up. Once she got there she handled comforting Heather much better than Stiles ever could. The two talked for a while and Christina convinced Heather that taking a shower and putting clean clothes on would help a little.

While Heather was in the shower Christina talked to Stiles. "What's the plan?"

"Why am I the one that needs a plan?"

"Come on. There has to be some way we can find Max. You're a spark. You have to have something up your sleeve."

Stiles sighed because she was right. He had an idea as soon as he realized that he needed to find Max. He just didn't think it would work. "Okay. Yeah. I've been trying a tracki—" He was going to finish his sentence but then his phone began to vibrate. It was Peter.

He answered the phone immediately. "It took you long enough. Did you read my messages?"

"Yes and I believe I found Max. Remember when we went after that rogue omega?"

Without hesitation Stiles replied, "The Panoramic Hill area?"

"Yup. I caught his scent. I'm there now. Want meet there?"

Shortly after Peter's phone call Stiles checked in on Heather and Christina one more time before he left. The drive to Panoramic Hill didn't take him long especially considering he must have broken about fifteen different traffic laws to get there. His emotions were so strung out that he could barely think straight and he knew that wasn't good.

Though the situation was just that fucked up. Max killed Will. They weren't entirely sure what they were dealing with but it wasn't good. He just hoped that nothing happened before he got there and that if something did happen that Peter could defend himself.

Some of his anxiety was put to the side, however, when he got out of his Jeep because leaning against a tree was Peter. He looked as though he didn't have a care in the world. Stiles knew that it was just a very convincing act.

"Took you long enough." Peter said gruffly.

"Oh shut up. I got here as fast as I could. Maybe if_ someone _would have answered his phone the first time I would've gotten here quickly.

Peter just hummed in response and then said "Come on. He should be this way."

He pushed himself off the tree and started to lead the way. Stiles followed, the anxiety creeping back up. Peter most likely could defend himself against a crazy Max, but Stiles didn't even have his baseball bat with him. Granted, he had upgraded to magic, but that wasn't always completely reliable.

As if reading his thoughts Peter spoke, "You know if you don't want to come, you don't have to. I can handle it."

"I have to. I already lost Will, I might lose Max. I can't possibly lose you too." He felt himself blush and was thankful that it was now getting darker out so that Peter wouldn't see. Stiles even looked away because he didn't want the werewolf to know that he cared this much. He didn't mean for it to come out so sappy but now it was out and there was no turning back.

If Peter notice or care he didn't show it. There was a brief pause of silence and even though there were so many other things going on, Stiles couldn't stop thinking that he just fucked up. He looked up to see if he could do the impossible and read Peter but when he did so he noticed that Peter had stopped walking and was tense.

It reminded Stiles so much of the night with the omega wolf. The night that Stiles really became part of the pack. Funny how things tended to go full circle.

And just like with the omega wolf, a figure came leaping out of the woods with a strangled howl. It sounded pained and sickened, so unnatural.

It was Max. He looked at Stiles. Danger was written all over his face. It was Max but it was also so completely not Max. Heather was right when she said that his eyes were cold and dead-like. All the warmth and happiness that Max once had was gone.

"Look who it is, Peter and his whore." Max, it, spoke.

Stiles glanced at Peter who looked calm but ready to fight. "You're not Max." Stiles said, putting it out in the open. He hoped he could figure out what was taking possession of Max so that he might be able reverse it.

Max smiled. Though this smile was full of malicious intent. "Oh but it is. I've just been too afraid to show my true self. See, I'm a lot more sadistic than I let on."

"Then quit you're talking and prove it." Peter growled.

"Very well." Max said and with that he lunged forward with his superhuman speed and went straight for Stiles. The last thing that Stiles saw before he blacked out was Max raising his clawed hand to slice him open.

When Stiles woke up and his first thought was that his head was killing him. It wasn't until a few disorientating seconds passed that he recalled what happened. Will was dead, Max was crazy, Peter must have been his savior, or at least he hoped. At that last thought Stiles bolted upright, much to his back's dismay, he didn't know what he was hoping for, if he wanted both of them to be okay or if he would just be happy with Peter's well-being, but the scene laid out several feet away from him caused his heart to sink.

Max laid motionless on the ground, blood pouring from his neck. The thick red substance was seeping through the surrounding grass. He was no longer the happy, go-lucky teen that Stiles knew. Now his brown eyes were dull and lifeless much like the rest of him.

For the first time in a very long time Stiles was at a loss for words. He stared at Peter who looked like some vengeful angel. The sun was just rising and the light was shining all around offset by the pinks and blues of the sky. His breathing had evened out and he was no longer shifted, but the way that he stood over Max's body, blood dripping from his claws, sent chills though Stiles.

It seemed like an eternity had passed but Stiles finally found his voice. "You killed him." It came out much more hoarse and quiet than he intended.

Peter cocked his head to the side like a bird. "He was trying to kill you. He killed Will. I didn't have much of a choice."

"There had to be some other way." Stiles said, this time louder. He stood up but did not walk over to where Peter was standing.

"Don't play Mr. Morals on me now. You've done the same thing for less." He said in an off-handed tone. Peter's words were a low blow too. Stiles had killed but it was because of what he did when he was possessed by the Nogitsune or to the omega wolf when Max was being attacked. In the first case Stiles didn't have control over his actions, in the second case it was self-defense towards someone he didn't know.

However, this was Max. His friend. Max would not have hurt Stiles or Will intentionally, not unless he was possessed. That was the only explanation that Stiles could think of and that was probably why he felt so upset by Max's death. Stiles had killed people too, more people than Max had, and even a pack member like him, Allison. But even though it was difficult Scott and the rest of them still found a way to get rid of the Nogitsune. They were of course still hurt over Allison and Stiles felt as though his presence cause an uneasiness with some of them, he was still given a chance though. Not only did Max being dead upset Stiles, but also the fact that he wasn't given that same chance.

"Yeah. You're right. But he was our friend."

Peter frowned ever so slightly. He looked almost regretful, but Stiles knew better. "He was, but the second he killed Will things changed. You may have been fortunate when you were possessed, but not everyone can be cured. He was going to kill you and that was not something I was ready to let happen."

Stiles really didn't want to believe his words. His mind kept telling him that there had to be some other way, any other way. He knew that Peter's words had some truth to them though. Stiles had been lucky and if there was one thing he had learned from hanging around the supernatural was that a lot of people weren't that lucky.

When Stiles didn't respond Peter then took a few steps forwards and looked straight into Stiles' eyes. "Your safety is more important to me." He paused as if he was contemplating his next words, "I think I would give my life for you."

Stiles couldn't help it. His heart skipped a beat.

"Are you serious? I thought you didn't do exclusive relationships."

Peter smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Have you seen me with anyone else? Have you been with anyone else? Face it Stiles. We see each other every day. Short of bringing maybe one or two boxes of your stuff over to my place, you basically live with me. Hell, we bicker like an old married couple. We are exclusive."

Stiles was a little speechless. His first real relationship and seven months into it he found out. "I.. I never thought of it like that."

Peter said nothing, just hummed a soft response. "We should get going. We can talk about this later. With everything that has happened the pack has to be number one priority."

Stiles nodded. He had no idea how to even feel right now. One minute he's sad because of Max, then pissed at Peter, then head over heels in love with Peter. He was definitely going to need a drink when all of this was over.

He decided that no matter what was done, Peter was right and the pack needed his help. "Definitely. You're going to have to add some people too. What with Max gone, Will gone, and Heather is going to need some time to heal. She's been through a lot and will need support."

Saying it out loud made it sound so real. In one fell swoop a good portion of the pack was decimated.

"What a time to be Alpha." Peter replied.

His eyes glowing red.

_Part IX_

_I'm a teenage assassin executing some fun / In the cult of the life of crime_

Three weeks later and things were starting to resemble normal. Heather was still rightfully grieving but with Christina's help she was doing better. Stiles had moved in Peter which was a really good feeling and Stiles was loving the fact that he could call Peter his boyfriend. The pack still needed some work but that would take a longer time than a few weeks. Yes, to Stiles, things may have started to be looking up.

Or so he thought.

One afternoon he got a really odd text from Christina asking him to meet her at the restaurant they worked at. She told him not to tell anyone, especially Peter, no matter what. Naturally all this caused Stiles to be curious yet kind of nervous.

He arrived at the restaurant and went to the backroom that was sectioned off for employees only. No one was back there except Christina who looked incredibly nervous about something. He didn't need to be a werewolf to feel the nervous energy that was rolling off her in waves

"What's with the cloak and dagger?" Stiles asked.

"I think Peter drugged Max and is responsible for everything that happened." She blurted out, the words coming out all at once.

"Woah. Slow down. What are you talking about?" He heard her the first time, but he needed some explanation. None of this made sense. Peter was hardly considered a good guy but what Christina was talking about seemed ridiculous.

She must have noticed his skepticism. "Hear me out. According to everything I've researched Max was drugged by some fae concoction. You know who was hanging around a fae a few nights before Max's death? He's the one who needed killed Max so that he became an Alpha. You cannot deny that killing Max was not the only option Peter had. He's smart. He could've come up with a way to save Max and still make sure no harm came to anyone."

Her words made sense and the logical part of Stiles was screaming to believe her. If he was t being honest with himself he would admit that in the past few days he had been having doubts about Max's death. He even considered looking into the matter himself. It still didn't mean he wanted to believe that his boyfriend was a cold-hearted killer.

"Why would he do that? It makes sense though I think I need some more evidence, if only because I want to cling on whatever small sliver of denial I can." He replied. He was hoping that the sensible part of him was wrong. He gladly take whatever loophole that was handed to him.

"Did you know how Peter was an Alpha before?"

Stiles let out a sigh of relief remembering the conversation he had with Peter all those months ago when times were simpler. "Yeah, actually. He told me how he killed Kate." He relaxed a bit. If this was all she had against Peter then he didn't really care.

"Do you know how he became an Alpha?" From the tone of her voice Stiles had a feeling that he was not going to like what was coming next.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak and then shut it. He actually wasn't too sure on how to answer. He shifted uncomfortably before saying, "I just figured that the power transferred when his family died."

"I thought so too until I did some research. His younger niece survived and became Alpha. When Peter gained enough strength and woke up from the coma he went after her. He killed her. His own family. Just to become Alpha."

Stiles felt like the world had just crashed down upon him. He felt sick. He wanted to scream, he wanted to do something. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he knew it was true. Peter a bastard, but not that awful or so Stiles thought. "I feel awful. Fuck. He really killed them, didn't he? Shit."

"I haven't wanted to tell Heather because she doesn't need the added stress."

Stiles nodded. He still felt terrible and had a feeling that he would feel like that for a while. His heart felt like it dropped into his stomach. Peter killed Max and Will. Will and Max were dead because of Peter. "I've been sleeping with a murderer."

"You've been doing a lot more than sleeping." Christina said, lacking the usual bite.

"What do we do?"

"I'm going to get out of here and take Heather with me. She's already having trouble like I said. Too much of this city reminds her of Will. A new start would be good and it's not like we are equipped to fight him."

Once again she was right. Peter was a smart, amoral, Alpha. They didn't really stand a chance in fight against him. Still, Stiles felt useless. He felt like he needed to something, anything, to try to avenge his fallen friends.

Stiles was trying to remain calm as he went up the steps to the apartment. He still didn't know what he was going to do but he knew he couldn't stay here anymore. It was debate between doing the smart thing and trying to flee in the middle of the night without Peter noticing, or confronting Peter.

The way Stiles was feeling as he approached the door made confrontation more likely. He didn't think he could look at Peter without an outburst. He to a deep, calming, breathe and opened the door.

Peter was sprawled out on the couch. Dressed to kill in tight red jeans and his signature v-neck styled white shirt. His was messy as usual and there were papers scattered across the coffee table. Right away he began to talk. "Hey, where were you? A group of rather ruthless hunters came to town and I've been trying to do some research. The head, Gloria Relva, seems to be badass enough to put Gerard Argent to shame."

Normally Stiles would have loved to walk in on a scene like this, they were always at their best when they were doing research together, debating ideas and facts.

But, Stiles didn't feel the warmth he usually felt. Instead he just felt cold. In fact, Peter's casualness just made Stiles' blood boil even more.

Never one to beat around the bush he chose to cut right to the chase, "Did you kill Max and Will on purpose?"

That made Peter change. His once laid-back demeanor was now tense. Stiles felt a sense of satisfaction at the look on Peter's face. He finally caught him off guard on something. Good.

"You've got Alpha hearing now. You heard me." Stiles said with anger. He sighed, the betrayal washing over him.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Where is this coming from?"

Not answering his question was never a good sign. "Nowhere. This is my own doing. Now are you going to give me an answer?" He said, this time more forcefully. He was growing more and more livid as Peter reverted back to looking utterly unfazed by the accusations.

"If I say no will you believe me?" The amusement in his tone did not help matters from Stiles' view.

Stiles threw his hands up in the air. "You're disgusting. They were your friends." He stalked across the room, heading towards his laptop and charger. He picked them up and put them in his backpack. He began to put more his things that he saw around the room into his bag. For now. he just wanted some basic things, he would come back for the rest later if he could.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving. You expect me to just let this go? God, I feel so stupid. I let you manipulate me. It's not happening again, Peter."

Stiles could tell that Peter tensed at his words. His eyes flashed red and Stiles thought that he must have hit a nerve. Good.

"Don't leave." Peter said, his voice was a bit deeper than usual and much more commanding

Stiles felt the now weakened pack bond pull at him. The emotions that he tried to bury deep, the emotions he had for Peter were trying to come to the surface. Stiles did everything in his power to keep this from happening. "You aren't my Alpha anymore. You aren't my anything. You lose. If you wanted to be an Alpha so badly then there other people you could have went after, hell I might've helped, that's how much I loved you. But no, you're jealously of Max got to be too much and you killed him."

Every word that Stiles said was true. If Peter would have asked Stiles to help him find any other person to take down so that Peter could become Alpha, Stiles would have. His morals were skewed beyond any normal boundaries. He didn't really care what happened to people he didn't know, but because Peter went after his friends… that was just something that Stiles would not allow.

Peter stood up from where he was sitting and strode over to Stiles. There still a few feet separating them which was good because Stiles didn't think he could handle being any closer to Peter than that.

"He was never good enough. Stay and I'll prove myself."

Stiles shook his head. "The fact that you are borderline begging shows that you've lost. Besides, you've lost one pack already and now you're losing this one as well. Shows a lot about your Alphaship."

It was a low blow and Stiles knew it. The Hale fire was not even remotely Peter's doing, but that didn't matter. The pain that flickered across Peter's face brought some sick satisfaction to Stiles. He wanted him to hurt, he wanted him to feel at least a fraction of what Will and Max had to endure.

Peter growled. Fangs were now out and he used his incredible speed to grab Stiles' wrist before Stiles could do anything about it. The hold he had on his wrist was so tight that Stiles felt it cutting off his circulation. It didn't help that Peter's claws were digging into his flesh as well.

Amber met red as Peter fixed him a dangerous glare. "You'll regret this."

"No. I don't think I will." Stiles said, not backing down. He then let a wave of bright energy out so strong that it knocked Peter back a few feet, sending him flying into the wall.

Without looking back Stiles left.

_Part X_

_Jimmy died today / He blew his brains out into the bay / In the states of mind / It's my own private suicide_

Against his better judgement Stiles found himself in Peter's apartment complex two weeks later. He wasn't going to go, he really wasn't, but he still needed some of his things. Most importantly the watch that his mother gave him shortly before she died. He never really wore it, but it was the sentimental value that mattered. He didn't realize he didn't leave it until he left Peter's and he didn't feel going back to retrieve until now.

Luckily for him, he had always been on good terms with the neighbors. One in particular didn't take much persuading to let Stiles know when Peter would be gone. It was the information to motivate Stiles to get him in.

As he approached the apartment he instantly noticed that something was wrong. There was a change in the air and Stiles saw that the warding he put in place all those months ago were broken.

When he went inside his suspicions were true. Something had happen. Books, bottles, furniture, it was all strewn across the floor. A fight obviously broke out.

He took a few hesitant steps into the apartment. He wanted to be careful on the chance that the assailant was still there, or if the place was being watched, or worse Peter was still skulking around. Either way Stiles had to be careful.

He went to make his way up to the bedroom to get his watch, deciding that he should at least get what he came here to get. It wasn't until he approached the staircase that he noticed the blood. There was no telling whose it was, but he found himself hoping it wasn't Peter's.

He sidestepped the blood and went upstairs. Still no sign of anyone. Peter's bedroom seemed more or less the same. The smell of stale cigarettes and expensive cologne filled the air. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smell, but it was something that Stiles had grown used to.

Stiles looked in the second drawer of the dresser, once upon a time it was his drawer, and he grabbed some of his shirts out of it and found his watch at the bottom. As he left the room and went back down the stairs he couldn't ignore this odd feeling that was nagging at him.

"I should just leave. I should just leave. I'm not going to help." He spoke out loud. He took two steps forward before he noticed a magic book laid open on the coffee table. It was like some cruel, disturbing fate was telling him something. He let out a groan of frustration, "Fuck everything."

Of all the times to gain a sense of morality, of course it would be now and for Peter.

He decided that he would try a tracking spell. He reasoned with himself that it would be good practice. He had only tried it once before and it almost resulted in Stiles burning down the apartment. He hoped that this time would be better.

The tracking spell would also tell him whether or not Peter was alive. Something that Stiles wasn't sure he wanted to know or not.

The tracking spell actually didn't go as bad as Stiles thought it would. In fact, it worked. Peter was located in some warehouse near the bay. From the things Peter was looking into and the specs of the warehouse it seemed that it was owned by a group of hunters. Stiles remembered their last fight and how Peter mentioned someone named Gloria. It was only a half hour drive and Stiles decided that he'd have to do it himself because there was no way anyone else was going to help him.

Once he arrived at the warehouse he tried to come up with a plan. He decided to just rely on his magical abilities and hope that he didn't die. It seemed easy enough.

To his surprise the warehouse was not that heavily guarded. Only lackeys stood in the hallway and Stiles easily took them out with a quick spell. Taking the guards out made Stiles feel a bit more confidant in his abilities. Although he still decided that finding Peter as quick as possible would be the best course of action. After a few seconds of trying to detect Peter's energy he felt a faint flicker.

It lead him to a door to a cell. Another spell and the lock broke off. When he entered relief washed over him. Peter was there and he looked for the most part to be unharmed.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Peter said grinning. He was tied up to a fence that was running electricity through it so that he wouldn't shift. "What are you doing here, Stiles?"

Stiles had to resist rolling his eyes. "I'm here to save your ass. Be grateful I was with friends with Scott for as long as I was, his morals are hard to shake."

He looked around the room and found the source of the electricity rather easily. With a flick of a switch he turned it off. Peter tried to break free of his bonds but they seemed to be too much for him. Stiles stepped closer and examined the bonds. The rope was infused with wolfesbane, enough to keep Peter docile for the time being. Stiles looked around for something sharp to cut the rope with much to Peter's annoyance.

"You're a spark. Use magic." Peter deadpanned. Apparently having no patience for Stiles.

Stiles glared at Peter. "Yeah, sass the guy who is saving you." But started to chant and concentrated on the rope nonetheless. Soon enough one of the bonds were free.

He was in the middle of undoing the second bond when the door to the cell opened. Gloria Relva stood in front of him looking fierce. She was clad head to toe in black with a gun held up and aimed at Stiles.

She said, "How did you get in here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Stiles replied. He took a step forward. He was almost regretful that those were probably his last words but he didn't care that much. He was scared, scared that he was going to die in this warehouse for Peter Hale of all people. But he wasn't going to let her know that.

"Cute." She smiled.

Then all hell broke loose. She fired her gun, but in a turn of events Peter broke free and tackled Stiles to the ground before a bullet even grazed him. Stiles wasted no time. He took advantage of Gloria's shock and used his magic to knock her to the ground. He made sure that she would be unconscious for a good hour or two.

"I didn't die." Stiles said to himself, grinning. A wave of relief washed over him.

"Lucky you." Peter said. His voice was gruff but still held a level of snark. Stiles looked over to where Peter was laying and instantly noticed Peter was bleeding profusely from his chest.

"Shit." He was panicking. "Why aren't you healing?"

"Your vocabulary astounds me." Peter replied and Stiles hated him for being able to be a sarcastic ass while dying. "Wolfesbane bullets."

"Of course. Well, okay, what do we do? I'm not skilled enough to heal you." Stiles' mind was working in overdrive trying to think of anything that he could to help. He wasn't coming up with much.

"You've done enough. You took the hunter out. More are likely to come looking for her any minute now. You should get out of here while you still can." Peter said. His voice no longer sounded like himself and his breathing was getting shallower.

"I can't just leave you here!"

Peter smiled. Even after everything that had happen it was one of the prettiest things that Stiles had ever seen. "I'm like a cat, remember? Nine lives. Technically I should have eight more left. Besides, you bought me the satisfaction of seeing that bitch die and I got to see your gorgeous self one last time. I call that a win."

Stiles stood up and looked at Peter one last time. He tried his damnedest to not tear up but he found himself failing. He was frozen in place. He heard shouts from down the hall but he couldn't get himself to move.

"Go." Peter growled.

His eyes flashed red.

It was the last time Stiles ever saw him.

_Part XI_

_And in the darkest night / If my memory serves me right / I'll never turn back time / Forgetting you, but not the time._

It was tough. The first few days back in Beacon Hills, mainly because none of it seemed real. He had been gone so long and had experienced so many new things and yet it was all like a dream. Weird, how he could meet such new and interesting people and lose them in such a short span of time. Stiles had raged and loved. He felt like he grew up a lot in the short time he was away.

He, Christina, and Heather promised to keep in touch. The latter two had moved to LA where they were getting their lives back together. Will Jr. was born just last week and Stiles couldn't wait to be sent pictures. He knew from his experience with Scott that he wasn't the best person to keep in touch with, but Stiles was going to make a huge effort in the case of those three.

Now that he had moved back to Beacon Hills he and Scott were back to being friends. There was still a slight rift between them, and they probably would always be, but all that mattered to Stiles was that he had his friend back. Stiles wasn't sure what he was going to do now that he was back. He figured he would try to take some classes at the local community college and go from there.

He knew that it would be an adjustment, being back, especially since the reality that Peter was dead was just beginning to sink in. Sure, he had left him a while before he died, but Stiles still felt things for him. He was experiencing a hurricane of emotions and he found that he didn't really have anyone to talk to about it. Peter wormed his way into his life and made sure that his absence would be felt no matter what. Stiles loved and hated him for it. He knew that eventually he would move on and that his time in the city would be a distant memory.

The past several months had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. For now though, when he entered his old room, he felt at home.

It wasn't until he started unpacking the last of his boxes that he noticed something on his desk that wasn't there before.

It was a pack of Reeses and it had a sticky note attached:

_Seven lives left._

_ -SP_


End file.
